


Contemporaneous Chronology

by StarlightCaptivator



Series: As The Universe Expands [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama Llama, Gen, M/M, Mech Preg, Multi, Sparklings, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creation and Carrier have been reunited, only to meet directly with a new challenge:</p><p>♫♪[Obnoxious swell of daytime soap opera music]♪♫</p><p>The potential for family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was _really_ not expecting the last few months to kick my butt as hard as they did. But! Here I am, hopefully we can get back on some semblance of an update schedule again starting with this.
> 
> This, of course, follows directly after [Double Trouble](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6976240/chapters/15899614). 
> 
> While this work won't have _super_ sexually explicit scenes if you're wont to skip that sorta stuff, it will have potentially difficult ones pertaining to intimate and social relationships. This is your warning for that. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"You're _what_?"

  
Perceptor's voice held the edge of a snarl in his surprise, but with his exhaustion of the last week validated- what with Fission and Blowover's vent adventure, Brainstorm didn't bother allocating the energy to feel offended or hurt.

  
"Sparked. Up the duff. Got one in production." And by Primus' rusty gears did he _sound_ tired too. "We kindled, and the spark took to me." There was an unsaid 'again' attached there, they both knew it.

  
"Ratchet's time-line for it puts it probably the at that time you came to 'visit' me in the lab." Brainstorm's happy initial thrill at learning of his kindling was doused quick by the dour demeanor of the medical team at the news, and his own realization that if he didn't say anything, the newspark's unwitting sire would probably find out some other short, white-and-red way... Or a larger, louder red-and-white way, what with how _last time_ went, after all.

  
The thought had curdled his fuel tank- so there he was: preempting the gossip train.

  
Perceptor looked unhappy- furious even for a split second, before his expression morphed into disappointment and then resolution. The tensors under the pliable metal of his face flexed, and Brainstorm was sure he was about to be blamed for it, for this thing he had no control over. (Okay, he had some control, but with the lack of any comprehensive sex education on Cybertron and the assumption a ground in his sparkchamber wouldn't be needed with a bitlet so hot off the assembly line, he had _some_ excuse.)

  
Instead, Perceptor appeared to think on his words before he spoke.

  
"I suppose you're wanting to keep it."  It was a statement, tinged with a sort of vexed ire that he usually reserved for being disappointed at the fallout of one of Brainstorm's simple safety goofs. Even knowing, feeling all of that- the relief suffused through him right away. He hadn't realized he had held himself so tightly coiled, and his entire body language drooped with relief.

  
"I do." He said. His hand raised to rest over the metal of his cockpit- his Autobrand. "It's important to me."

  
The next words nearly choked in his intakes for as much as he was unsure of himself, his words... how Perceptor may react. " It's important to me a-and, I need your help." Perceptor's countenance remained open, as did his body language, though he inclined his helm- indicating for Brainstorm to continue.

  
"... Primus this is _so_ awkward. Look, I've been enjoying our... _arrangement_.. and it...I... _We_ need the energy. Your spark energy." Brainstorm cast his optics downwards, brow furrowed. He didn't know exactly what he wanted- exactly what he was trying to express, and the anxiety from Perceptor's lack of reaction so far was maddening. " You... You're the only one I could ever see myself with, all things considered..."

And therein again was a repeated confession- Brainstorm was metaphorically spilling his sparklight- put into words this time around, where usually it was found in affections spurned just delicately enough to keep the status-quo in check after a meager, tolerating allotment.

It was the thin, dirty energon given to a starving mecha, just enough to sustain and maintain that feeble hope for something more substantial one day whilst simultaneously poisoning vital systems.

They both knew it.

It didn't stop Brainstorm from wanting to go deeper, nor Perceptor from keeping a firm grip on what should be an ocean of emotion a shallow game of hobbled cybercat and zap-mouse. 

Perceptor let out a gusty exvent and crossed his arms over his reinforced chest-plate. Brainstorm's gaze remained locked firmly on the space between their pedes.

"... I suppose it would be far more efficient use of both our resources and time if we began to cohabitate, then."

Brainstorm's helm snapped up to look at him, something akin to wonder in his surprised gaze, despite the tone of compromise Perceptor took with him...

... And hope, if only meager.

Hope springs eternal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Welcome to BrainstormSufferFest. (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞~~  
>   
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


	2. Chapter 2

After his short stint in medbay with his son, Brainstorm was not surprised that his crew mates' sentiment was akin to that of the majority of the medical team's, when the news spread. 

What _did_ surprise him was the gossip turnaround and how quickly it had flipped back into unfavorable attention coming his way.

There were no secrets on this damned boat, nor fake secrets, it seemed.

The initial flare of indignant anger at the crew's first reaction died down into a grim understanding of the whole situation at hand some time later when Chromedome came to speak to him to give him his _unexpected_ happy news.

He was glad for him! There wasn't anything else he _could_ be than happy that one of his closest friends was expecting the perfect addition to his perfect family.

...It just happened to be that this happiness swirled deep into a sick knot of bitterness in his fuel tank, resentment for the difference and deference when it came to their different treatments... Not to mention, the third factor swirling about in everything in the form of Swerve. 

If they had been on Cybertron, things would be different. There was a lingering environment of that militaristic continuation aboard the _Lost Light,_ when for all intents and purpose the likes of Swerve was a hero to their race, to carry the first newspark to term after the war.

Instead, there had been _jokes._

Jokes and derision, as if one's ability in the war would effect their ability to handle the fostering of a slow-growing, _kindled_ new spark.

As if metallurgy or weapons engineering could make someone unsuitable... Alright, he could see were one of those could be disconcerting where he himself was involved, but _Swerve_ never blew up the bar.

All he did was want to be liked, and it earned him nicknames of academy level maturity and the return of near crippling depression. Now he just wanted to be with Skids, and raise their bitlet. 

Brainstorm got to see Swerve's hurting first-hand over a long period of his carriage, having been one of those tapped to work on the tiny sparkling frame, his genius and Ratchet's medical expertise and finesse had meant long hours calibrating and fabricating from a crucible of protoform metal, with input from Skids and Swerve on how to try to coax influence- if they could at all. 

This was a brand new frontier, after all. How could they know for sure if their painstaking work would pay off?

He'd not been there for her emergence- too intimate, after all- but he had seen the results of his hard work not too long later. 

There was something deeply magical and scientifically satisfying... magiscientifically _wonderful_ about seeing the features that had formed in on the tiny, _happy_ mechanism- the royal blue paint job that was taking up in the slow-growing nanites applied on this tiny frame, swaddled in mesh cloth and curled up tight in the crook of her carrier's arm. 

It was something he wasn't long to experience himself after that point, in the span of things, save for the luxury of a supportive partner at his side. They didn't always agree on things, and argued like any couple, but to Brainstorm's view, Skids was nearly a gift from Primus for Swerve. 

There was no feelings bottled and affections withheld- they meant what they said to each other, after all... Or those things that mattered, at least. 

There was little to be gained in feeling sorry for himself over the differences but it put a damper over the interactions those of the tiny parent group had with one another, and a sudden painful undercurrent formed overnight in that deep _feeling_ part of Brainstorm's spark. 

He couldn't shake that minuscule voice the compared the likes of Chromedome to Brainstorm in this new respect, whenever they were together. 

Fission brought his attention back to the present in a snap, with little fingers rapping out a soft staccato on his chestplating to get his attention. Those bright, intelligent optics drove back some of that overcast feeling lingering over his mind. He checked his chronometer, reveling in the hopeful thrill that ran through his spark at the thought of Perceptor arriving soon to _their_ habsuite with the first of his things. 

The hopeful feeling didn't abate, and the image of their son sitting together with his sire in _their_ suite, the impression of _family_ so firmly plausible.... Brainstorm's wings fluttered as he squeezed Fission tight and wrung a squeak out of the surprised sparklet. 

The road was uncertain, but so _very_ bright.

He'd do his best to put Cybertron in his sparklets' hands, if they wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love a thinky Brainstorm. Also a little Pre-BN,B backstory here. 
> 
> Thanks for reading~ ♥


	3. Chapter 3

 The following weeks proved to be well productive where Perceptor and his sex life were concerned.

He'd hesitate to describe Brainstorm as needy, as opposed to need _ing_ \- but there was an edge to interfacing there sharpened by subconscious urges that Perceptor only recalled having seen in Brainstorm during the time before they had, for lack of a better term, broken up.

He was softer now, in this facsimile of a little family they had constructed, but the urge was still there, and Perceptor was happy to provide the code-laden transfluid and spark energy to make the regular sessions to which he was accustomed happen.

This softness brought a suggestibility with it- or rather- _influence_ , and it was a note Perceptor made use of well.

If he caught a wild notion and wanted Brainstorm bent over his workbench, Brainstorm would be bent over his workbench. If he found himself with the now rare static charge built up, it took very little convincing to get himself slotted between Brainstorm's legs.

It really _was_ a fascinating experiment.

Especially because he knew _just_ how deep Brainstorm's affection with him went, and that made it ever and all the easier.

He supposed there were other perks too, though the sight of that little mech- _his son,_  yes, even if he was still having trouble coming to terms with that- had him feeling something he was worried would count as dangerously close to soft.

Perceptor hadn't gone soft- and he'd not been such for milennia.

No matter _what_  exactly it was he was feeling when Fission trotted up to offer him a finished puzzle to look over that many of his crewmates couldn't have drempt of solving.

It wasn't softness.

There was a massive potential in his son, and in the new sparklet Brainstorm carried even then, and Perceptor had a duty to fulfill in shaping this new generations of scientific genius.

* * *

"This one feels like it's going to be a flier, too."

Perceptor looked up from his notes and across the small living area to where Brainstorm was seated with a large datapad spread over his lap.

He had a bowl of what looked like bismuth crumbles balanced precariously on an end table and Perceptor deduced with clinical neutrality that Brainstorm was likely experiencing a measure of nausea. Or heightened hunger due to the newspark's draw on his systems.

Or both.

Either way, his curiosity was piqued, and he set aside his research to come over and look at what was presumably a blueprint. "What makes you say that?" He asked, taking the datapad as it was wordlessly- if hesitantly- offered over to him.

Brainstorm gave a half-shrug, and Perceptor wondered for a moment if he was going to give him some half-clocked esoteric answer.

"It's a feeling... well, a _series_  of feelings. " and there it was. "Not to mention the urges."

Perceptor looked over the top of the datapad for a moment. "Urges such as those you had this morning?" Brainstorm's expression went flustered and Perceptor's went smug- and he felt he had reason to, as he had nearly knocked Brainstorm back offline with a morning visit to his berth. 

His redirection, however, failed.

"No!" He sputtered, exposed cheeks taking on a pink tint. "I've been dreaming about open sky," he admitted. "And I've had this itch in my wings that I wouldn't _quite_ call ground sickness, but it's a close thing."

Brainstorm laid a hand over his autobrand and Perceptor wondered for a moment if the sparkling was managing some rudimentary communication with him or if he was just purely pausing for effect.

Perceptor beat him to speaking again. "Are you certain this isn't a measure of personal bias?"

Brainstorm blinked at him blankly, seeming to have been struck senseless for a moment. Perceptor continued. "Fission was practically made in your image, after all. "

Brainstorm let out a sharp vent before taking the datapad back and hastily swiping and tapping a few times and handing it back sharply. "Fission is designed to be  _surveillance_  aircraft." He said. The screen showed blueprints Perceptor had never seen before, though they were familiar- as he had seen this same proto-alt just prior, when his son had fallen asleep after transforming and had to be taken by his carrier to be tucked in.

He swiped through the plans, each detailing an upgrade more complex than the last, until the final version stopped his swiping.

Brainstorm had obviously thought this through, and then moreso after Fission had been born, but the question pulled at Perceptor and he let it flow without thinking too hard on it.  "...What're all of these open spaces here, on his frame- and on the ones prior?"

" Spaces for him to choose how _he'd_  want his upgrades to go."

There was an unspoken 'for if he'd want to change his frame' there, and Perceptor picked up on it immediately. He supposed to himself with no little amount of exception that this was logical- Brainstorm was cold constructed- and a cold constructed spark didn't often get to choose their shape.

Questions bubbled up again and Perceptor let them out without a second thought, knowing they would placate Brainstorm and soothe his hurt feelings.

"......What method do you use for constructing the frames? How're you keeping to the work you need to do for each newspark without compromising their sparks' influence?"

Brainstorm eyed him again in a a way that could only be parsed as confusion. "You want to know the methods we devised for building the immature frames?"

Perceptor withdrew one of his miscellaneous datapads from his subspace and a stylus with it.

"Of course. There's more to this than I realized originally. Plus- _someone_  needs to write down your process." Brainstorm seemed to visibly relax- if just fractionally, before he launched into verbal-if slightly disjointed- treatise about first-frame building. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little touch of Perceptor-based POV for this chapter. When will I have the next out? I have no clue! Only a scant few of you have any idea of the monster this series is. :D 
> 
> And on that same note- a most sincere thank you for those sticking to reading this. It warms my heart to know y'all love baby robot drama as much as I do. ♥


End file.
